You came here expecting a blog post

Prepare to be sorely disappointed.
_____

I just locked an open door... strange, yet symbolically compelling.

Here's to alcohol, the cause of —and solution to— all life's problems.

Well done, android. The Enrichment Center once again reminds you that android hell is a real place where you will be sent at the first sign of defiance.

The following tale of alien encounters is true. And by true, I mean false. It's all lies. But they're entertaining lies. And in the end, isn't that the real truth? The answer is: No.

You're as repulsive as a monkey in a negligee.

We're baking lots of cake like you've never seen before.

Bite my glorious golden ass!

Definition: 'Love' is making a shot to the knees of a target 120 kilometers away using an Aratech sniper rifle with a tri-light scope. Statement: This definition, I am told, is subject to interpretation. Obviously, love is a matter of odds. Not many meatbags could make such a shot, and fewer would derive love from it. Yet for me, love is knowing your target, putting them in your targeting reticle, and together, achieving a singular purpose, against statistically long odds.

Me fail English? That's unpossible.

Kids, you tried your best and you failed miserably. The lesson is, never try.

This is the worst kind of discrimination. The kind against me.

Your love is like a brontosaurus. Recognized as a mistaken combination long ago, lingering only out of misplaced affection for the past.

In what scientists are calling "pretty gay", I can't find my shoes.

You know how some people consider "may you lead an interesting life" a curse? Well, screw that, let's have an adventure.

Looking at one's cards is a crutch for those that rely on skill.

Read 'em and weep! And then tell me what they are.

Bite my shiny metal hat.

You're not a good person. You know that, right? Good people don't end up here.

What's a wedding? Webster's dictionary describes it as the act of removing weeds from one's garden.

There goes the neighborhood. There goes another neighborhood.

No, you're driving under the influence... of being a jerk!

My eyes! The goggles do nothing!

Gonna eat your brains and gain your knowledge.

The internet is a series of tubes.

I'm normally not a praying man, but if you're up there, please save me Superman.

My Logical Data Analysis Sector indicates that would be highly unlikely, and my Bullshit Meter agrees.

I hate you!!! And I hate the bands you like!!!